Page 30 of Fluke
I gasp. “Kerissa.”
“What?”
“Are you fucking the mayor?”
She swats me, knocking over the basket of chips. “Don’t broadcast it to the whole place, please.”
I giggle as she picks up the chips.
“He’s cute,” I say, steadying myself as the tequila swirls in my head.
“He’s packing. Like, the man is seriously endowed.” She brushes the salt off her hands. “And at this point in my life, that’s all I’m really looking for. Humor me. Wine and dine me. Give me an experience to remember.”
I take a chip and point the end at her. “Good for you for knowing what you want and going after it.”
She parts her lips to reply, but nothing comes out. Instead, she grins as her eyes follow something behind me.
“What are you looking at?” I ask, afraid to turn around.
“Guess who just walked in.”
My hand drops to the table. The vibe she’s putting off makes one thing clear—whoever just entered the patio is interesting. And when I consider Kerissa’s definition of interesting, that also makes me nervous.
It could be my parents—that would equate the mischief on her face. Kerissa loves making snide little comments wrapped in sugary sweetness to Dr. and Dr. Plum. Or it could be Mayor Chamberlain making his way toward us.Am I supposed to know about their dalliance? Hell, it could be Banks, and Kerissa feels feisty enough to take him on.
“I’m afraid to look,” I say.
She drops her gaze to mine. “I didn’t tell you to look. I told you to guess.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because when it rains, it fucking pours, Kerissa, and I don’t have an umbrella. I’m also on the precipice of pneumonia from all the storms today, I think, and I can’t take anymore.”
She shakes her head as if she doesn’t know what to do with me.
“I—”
“Well, hello,Pippa.”
My blood turns from a tequila-spiked heat to a bone-chilling cold. I stare at Kerissa like if I don’t look to my left, Chuck won’t be standing there.
But it’s him.I can smell him—the nasty cologne I now associate with an acorn-eating hyena.
“That’s not where I thought you were going with this,” I tell my friend.
“Because that’s not where I was going with it. This is a wrong turn down a path I would’ve warned you about.”
I blow out a breath and wonder if I’ve pissed off God somehow.
My stomach churns, turning to an acid that wants to come up. The physical reaction to Chuck is nearly impossible to hide, and I wonder if I’d be better off just to vomit on his shoes.Would that deter him from bothering me anymore? Probably not.
“What brought you all the way to Kismet Beach tonight,Chuck?” I ask, my sarcasm thinly, if at all, veiled.
“My wife wanted to go to the beach, and we thought we’d stop here for dinner.” He points at a lady entirely too sweet-looking to be married to him. “That’s Debra.”
I hum. “She looks nice.”
